


Coming Home

by merle_p



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Amputation, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Friendship, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Illness, Miscommunication, Permanent Injury, Pining, Plans For The Future, Post-Canon, Post-War, Prosthesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-07-31 10:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20113369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merle_p/pseuds/merle_p
Summary: After the battle was over, after the end had come and gone, after the remainder of the Resistance had set up base on Lothal according to the conditions of the settlement agreement, Finn, Rey, and Rose boarded one of the Resistance’s still functional transport shuttles and set off to explore the beauty of the galaxy.Poe did not accompany them.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).

> Dear Rivulet027, I hope you enjoy your gift! Thank you for allowing me to play with two of my favorite characters, and for being so gracious when I asked for clarification on one of the tropes that made it into this fic.

They are sitting on the dock of a hybrid bar on Mon Cala that is heavily frequented by off-world tourists, though seeing as they are here as tourists themselves, it is difficult to object to the clientele of the locale. They are barefoot, toes dangling in the water, nursing bright blue drinks that faintly smell of seaweed, and Rose has just gently fended off the equally gentle advances of a young Mon Calamari, when Rey suddenly and terribly goes very, very still. 

“What?” Finn asks, tongue heavy with alcohol and fear, the soft movement of the dock that was pleasantly calming a second ago now a source of uncertainty and trepidation. “What is it?”

“Leia,” Rey says urgently, eyes distant, and Rose puts a hand over her mouth to cover a strangled shout. 

“We gotta get back.”

“A heart attack,” Poe says, left hand dragging through his hair in an exhausted, half-hearted gesture. Even taking into account the inevitable distortion of the holo projection, Poe looks like shit. There are dark circles under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept in days, and deep lines around the hard set of his mouth that Finn itches to smooth out with the pad of his thumb. 

“She was in a holo conference call with the Queen of Naboo’s representative when she fell. No one else in the room.” Poe swallows. “The Naboo had to comm the command center to let us know they’d seen her fall. Took at least five minutes for Connix to even get to her, longer for the medics to show up. It’s a miracle she is alive.”

“We are heading back now,” Rey says quickly. “ETA within one standard day.”

Poe shakes his head. “You don’t –“ 

– _have to_, Finn waits for him to say; but Poe falters and doesn’t complete the sentence. His shoulders slump in defeat. 

“It would be appreciated, yes,” he says, sounding so desperately grateful that Finn doesn’t even bother feeling triumphant over Poe’s surrender and moves straight towards serious concern. 

“We will see you tomorrow,” he says, trying to make it sound encouraging, and Poe nods, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he ends the call. 

After the battle was over, after the end had come and gone, after the remainder of the Resistance had set up base on Lothal according to the conditions of the settlement agreement, Finn, Rey, and Rose boarded one of the Resistance’s still functional transport shuttles and set off to explore the beauty of the galaxy. 

Poe did not accompany them.

It’s a sign of how much he was counting on Poe coming along, Finn thinks, that it took him such an embarrassingly long time to realize that Poe never engaged in their enthusiastic travel planning sessions. It was not that he ever said anything – he just tended to fall quiet, with a strangely wistful smile on his face as he stared out into the prairie, and more often than not he would soon bid his goodbyes with the excuse of some kind of work needing to be done. 

Finn knows that it’s probably unfair to call it an excuse. There’s no doubt about the never-ending list of tasks and challenges waiting for someone to claim or delegate. Overseeing the construction of the settlement while considering the needs of both its permanent and temporary inhabitants. Smoothing out tensions between the Resistance settlers and the locals. Organizing payouts and transports for the ones going home to their families. Sending condolence messages and holos to the families of those they have lost. Negotiating with different planetary governments about the project of a new interstellar alliance that will manage to avoid the New Republic’s gravest mistakes … It’s important work, and there is an endless supply of it. But why Poe Dameron, Admiral of the Fleet, poster boy, master pilot, and military strategist has to be the one in charge of sorting out every logistical, administrative, and diplomatic problem in the settlement is beyond Finn’s understanding. 

The shift in Poe’s behavior went beyond his preoccupation with work, though, and once Finn noticed, it was impossible to unsee – the way Poe suddenly always had somewhere else to be, the way his smiles were still friendly but flat, the way he asked Finn how he was doing but had stopped offering information about himself. Finn told himself to blame the stress of administrative duties, the fact that Poe was still recovering from the injury he had received in the fight against the Knights of Ren. Yet he couldn’t help but feel like he was seeing their friendship disintegrate before his eyes, like the sand running through Finn’s fingers back on Jakku as he had watched the TIE fighter disappear in the ground along with his faint hope that Poe Dameron was still alive. 

Just as he had back then, he felt devastated, and entirely helpless as to how to fix it. 

About a week before their planned departure, he ran into Poe leaning against the wall outside the medical center, cradling his right arm against his chest. He looked pale and withdrawn, and Finn ached to reach out and touch, the way he used to do without a second thought before the growing rift between them had made it a much more daunting risk. 

“What did the doctors say?” Finn asked instead, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. “They able to figure out yet why you are still in pain?”

Poe shrugged, rubbing his right elbow absent-mindedly as he sort-of-but-not-quite looked at Finn, focusing on a spot just over his left shoulder. 

“Oh, you know,” he said. “The same. Just takes time to heal.”

“Really?” Finn asked doubtfully, giving Poe another critical look. “It’s been giving you trouble for months. Are you cleared to fly yet at least?”

Poe’s face darkened, and he glanced away quickly. “No,” he said. “Looks like I won’t be for a while.” 

With what seemed like an enormous effort, he rearranged his face into a mask of cheerfulness. 

“Just as well, right?” he said. “Plenty of work to be done on the ground.”

Finn frowned and was about to tell Poe to leave some of the tasks to other people for once, when what Poe really was (or rather wasn’t) saying finally sank in. 

“You aren’t coming,” he said, and fought to swallow down the urgent sense of loss that seemed to be clogging up his throat. 

Poe sighed, and finally looked Finn in the eyes, but his expression was sad and guilty and apologetic, and Finn knew what he was about to say before he opened his mouth. 

“I am not,” he said, and smiled a lopsided smile. “Not a big deal, though. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun without me.”

“Hey,” Rose says, sitting down next to Finn on the bench in the shuttle's lounge space, close but not quite close enough to touch. Technically, Finn is hiding, but he is not too upset over having been found. He has been half-expecting her to show up sooner or later, wandering over from the bridge, bored out of her mind. Rey is a very focused pilot who does not appreciate distractions.

“You alright?”

Finn glances at her quickly from the corner of his eye, then stares back down at his hands. 

“Not really,” he says.

She laughs a little. “Stupid question, I know.”

“No, no.” He shakes his head. “I mean. Just. I thought we were past this, you know?”

“Past what?” she asks.

“Suffering,” he shrugs, self-conscious. “Self-sacrifice. You know, after the First Order collapsed. I thought this was the time for blue drinks, and nature hikes, and finishing your dessert in the mess hall without listening with one ear for the sirens to go off. I thought Poe …”

He breaks off awkwardly when he remembers whom he’s talking to. 

“Never mind,” he says. “I don’t know what I thought.”

“Finn,” Rose says, and her tone is patient and stern at once. “You know you can talk to me about Poe if you want.”

Finn glances up her in surprise. She raises her eyebrows at him. 

“It’s been two years, Finn,” she says, her smile long-suffering and kind. “I won’t say that it didn’t take me a week or so to get over my crush. But now we are friends. I like being your friend. And I suppose in the end I am a pragmatist. I am not the kind of person to sit around and pine for a year, much less two.”

She chuckles quietly. 

“Actually, that seems to be much more your and Poe’s thing, if you ask me.”

“What?” Finn asks. He is feeling out of his depth and a little confused at the direction this conversation is taking.

Rose moves her legs back and forth like a child on a swing. “Just saying. Not sure I quite understand what the holdup is.”

Finn considers pretending that he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but lying would require an amount of energy that he really doesn’t think he can muster right now. He sighs.

“I suppose I was just always waiting for a better time. You know, I thought I’d start to think about it after the war? After we’d get the settlement going. After Poe would be all healed up. After we’d get back from this trip.” 

“And now?” Rose asks, but before he can figure out how to answer that, Rey’s voice is echoing through the passageway, telling them to strap in for the landing. 

C’ai and Kaydel are waiting for them in the hangar when they set down, and Finn cannot quite suppress the sense of disappointment at their sight, even as he is genuinely happy to see them. 

“Poe was going to meet you here,” C’ai says casually, as if this isn’t exactly what Finn was thinking about. He wonders if his feelings are written all over his face. 

“But he got stuck in a holo conference with the government of Coruscant.” C’ai shrugs, a slightly wary gesture. “He’s had to deal with all the representative stuff on top of his administrative duties, so he’s been running back and forth non-stop.”

“But,” Connix chimes in, before Finn can even consider dealing with the wave of guilt and worry rolling over him, “he said to take you to the General, if she’s awake. Do you want to see her?”

“Yes, please,” Rose nods, and Kaydel gestures for them to follow her along the path that leads down to the clinic. C’ai salutes them lazily before walking off back into the hangar. 

“How is she?” Rey asks furtively, and Connix comes to a stop in front of the med center, her face serious. 

“It’s … well. She’s alive. The doctors are confident that she’ll recover for the most part. But we also know that this puts her at an increased risk for recurring incidents. And – she’s always seemed invincible, you know? Like nothing could touch her. I mean – just two years ago, she survived being blown into space, woke up and walked straight onto the bridge to break up our little mutiny.” She swallows. “Seeing her this weak and knowing that she might never be back to her old self –” 

She breaks off, takes a breath.

“Well,” she says, gesturing for them to enter the building. “You can see for yourself.”

“I would say that you didn’t need to interrupt your travels for this,” Leia says and raises her fingers to touch Rey’s cheek in a fleeting tender caress. She smiles faintly, and her hand heavily drops back onto the sheets. 

“But it would be a lie. I am glad you are here.”

Finn swallows. He is glad to be here as well, and at the same time wishes he was on the other side of the galaxy. Kaydel’s halting explanation makes sense to him now. Leia is alive, she is conscious, she is sitting up, supported by a mountain of pillows, and yet – even when she was laid out unconsciously on the Raddus, she didn’t look the way she does now: thin, frail, colorless, almost transparent. For a split second, Finn is shaken by the irrational, horrific thought that maybe she’s not actually here, that maybe she has already passed, that maybe what they see is not her body but a vision, a Force ghost, a lingering shadow. 

As if she knows what he is thinking, Leia throws him a tiny mischievous smile. 

“I am still here,” she says, and Finn exhales shakily. 

Rose makes a sound somewhere between a chuckle and sob. There are tears running down her face, and she hasn’t made any effort to wipe them off. 

Leia sighs fondly, and her body relaxes, sinking back into the pillows. 

“This is your time,” she says quietly. “The New Alliance … I’ve been throwing my influence around but I shouldn’t be meddling. This is the project of your generation.” She half-shrugs without really lifting her shoulders. “You have a chance to do a better job than we did the first two times.”

“No, no,” Rey shakes her head. “You can’t leave the fate of the galaxy to us.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees, his voice rough. “We have no idea what we are doing.”

She raises a brow, and in that moment looks so much like the old Leia Organa that he has to smile despite himself. 

“Yes, you do,” she says. 

“Now get out of here and let me rest. There’s people out there who need your help much more than I do.”

They run into Poe on their way back from the med center. 

They spot him before he does, and when BB-8’s insistent beeping finally makes him look up from the datapad he’s holding, his step falters. There’s a moment when all the tension seems to leave his body at once, when his unusually serious features melt into an expression of utter, deep relief. 

It’s only a split-second though before he seems to remember that he is Admiral Poe Dameron, second-in-command to General Organa, and he visibly schools his features, squares his shoulders as he walks towards them with measured steps. 

“Poe!” Rose shouts, clearly not bothered by the same desire for propriety, and gets on her tiptoes to wrap him in a tight hug. His left hand comes around her back a little awkwardly while still clutching the datapad, and over Rose’s shoulder Finn can see him struggle to keep his composure. 

Finn remembers him being better at keeping his emotions in check, but he also doesn’t remember him ever trying to reign them in like he does now. One of the best things about Poe Dameron has always been the way he is so open with his moods: affection, cheer, mischief, frustration. Finn finds it almost physically painful to see him grapple with his feelings in this way. 

He copes by wrapping Poe in an embrace of his own, as soon as Rose lets go of him. Poe presses his face against his shoulder, his gloved hands searching for purchase on Finn’s back. Poe feels thinner under Finn’s touch than he remembers him, and Finn wonders how much weight he has lost since they left.

“I am sorry we weren’t here,” Finn says, and Poe shakes his head, his curls brushing against Finn’s neck with the movement. 

“You are here now,” he says, and steps back, arms falling by his sides. 

“Have you had a chance to settle in yet?” he asks.

“We went straight to see Leia,” Rey says, and he nods as if he had expected nothing else. 

“We’ve been doing alright on living space,” he says, “so we didn’t need to touch your quarters. Everything is the way it was. I will see you for dinner at the latest, alright? I can catch you up on the settlement, and I want to hear about your trip, but I actually have an hour of flight practice scheduled right now.”

“Practice?” Finn repeats incredulously, the idea of Poe practicing flying so ridiculous that he wants to laugh. Then his brain catches up with him and he backtracks: “Wait, flying? They finally cleared you?” 

That explains the flight gloves, he thinks, then gets distracted by Poe’s smile, a weirdly bashful thing. Finn would call it embarrassed if he had any idea what Poe could possibly need to feel embarrassed about. 

“Yeah,” Poe says. “They cleared me. Just a week ago. So, uhm. It’s been a while, you know? Don’t want to get rusty.”

BB-8 makes a strange sound, as if he disapproves of Poe’s choice of words. Poe pats his dome in an appeasing gesture.

“You should go look at the fields if you have time,” he says. “Spring is gorgeous out here.”

Spring is, in fact, gorgeous on Lothal. 

Finn knows that sustainability and environmental conservativism are major issues in Lothalian politics, that some scientists are still concerned about whether the long-term consequences of the exploitative Imperial occupation will ultimately bring about the collapse of the planet. Here, though, in this quiet rural corner of the planet, in fair distance to the towers of Capital City, the earth underneath their feet seems to be breathing life, and the world around them seems healthy and whole. 

It takes about two hours to circle the entire settlement on foot, and doing the tour has become a ritual for those who return after having been away. Finn goes back to his quarters only long enough to drop his bag and race through a shower, then he heads back outside where Rose and Rey are already waiting for him. 

To the East and the North, the settlement is looking out into the grassy plains as far as the eye reaches, the nearest other settlement a shimmering blur on the horizon in the East. The cool breeze gently moves the high grass, which is parted once in a while by a semi-wild Loth cat hunting for prey. In the West, the buildings of the settlement reach almost up to the shore of the small lake, which serves as freshwater reservoir, fishing grounds, and recreational area all at once. The fields and gardens stretch out to the South. In the distance, Finn spots a handful of workers in the grain fields. The settlement practices sustainable three-field crop rotation, one of the requirements in the settlement agreement, and patches of wildflowers have been planted throughout the fields for the pollinators. Not much is blooming yet at this time of the year but the small dots of yellow and purple between the wheat and vegetable fields tug at the strings of Finn’s heart in a strange way that feels like both satiation and longing at once.

Rey pokes him in the side with a pointy elbow and gestures up to the sky. Two x-wings are playfully chasing each other, and Finn doesn’t even have to think to recognize Poe and Jess. Jessika Pava’s style of flying – daring and smart – is easy to identify, and Finn has seen Poe fly enough times to know exactly what it looks like when he’s at the helm. Today, though, there is something cautious about Poe’s loops that Finn has never noticed before, his turns halting and almost jerky. Maybe Poe wasn’t joking when he was talking about practice after all, Finn thinks, and a sense of unease is settling heavily in his chest. 

When he sees the x-wings circling back towards the landing strip, he puts a hand on Rey’s arm. 

“I’m heading back,” he says. “I’ll see you in the cafeteria. Gotta take care of something before dinner time.”

It’s a decent walk back to the living quarters where most of the higher-ranking childless officers are housed, and Finn is fairly certain that Poe must have made it back to his suite before he arrives. 

He knocks on the door to Poe’s quarters, and when he doesn’t get a response, he presses his thumb against the keypad embedded in the wall. Finn used to be here so frequently that they have established a system: If Poe really doesn’t want to be interrupted, he’ll block Finn’s access to his space. If the door is unlocked, Finn is welcome to step in and make himself at home. 

The door slides open easily for him. So by all means, Finn shouldn’t feel as hesitant about crossing the threshold as he does, but the odd weeks before his departure and the distance between them that only seems to have grown while he was gone make him wonder if he is still wanted here.

Poe’s flight suit is on the bed, dropped haphazardly in what seems like uncharacteristic carelessness. Finn hears the water in the ‘fresher running, accompanied by the small noises of toiletries being moved around in the stall. BB-8 rolls out from behind a corner and chirps a distracted welcome before returning to whatever data processing task he seems occupied with. 

Finn wanders around the room and randomly touches things, a fleeting brush of his fingers against a rolled-up star chart, the holo of Poe’s parents, his guitar. Finn hasn’t even been gone that long, doesn’t quite understand why he expects the room to look different from what he remembers. He feels a little like he is snooping, but he cannot help himself: Poe has seemed so distant lately, and the longing Finn feels for him has been a constant presence in his mind that has only grown stronger with the emotional turmoil the General’s illness has thrown him into.

He sits down in the chair by the desk, glancing over the star maps spread out on the table with half-hearted interest. Curiously, he picks up what looks like a disconnected droid arm, turns it over in his hands. 

BB-8 makes a tiny bleep that sounds almost alarmed, and Finn smiles down at him reassuringly. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll be careful with your buddy’s arm.”

He wonders if Poe has taken up fixing robots as a hobby of sorts. It is not a secret that he’s fond of droids, but he usually limits his hands-on repair work to BB-8, and only sometimes tinkers with another droid’s programming when he thinks it is too limited. Finn has never known him to be particularly interested in the mechanical aspects of robotics, but perhaps it takes Poe’s mind off of things. 

Finn hears the shower switch off, and he takes a deep breath to steel himself. He’s been with the Resistance long enough to know that Poe doesn’t usually bother with putting his clothes on in the ‘fresher. Sure enough, as the door slides open, Poe steps into the room completely naked, except for a towel slung around his neck. Finn is glancing up to greet him and at the same time desperately trying not to look, his gaze dropping down to the vicinity of Poe’s bellybutton and then quickly skidding off to the side to avoid getting distracted by the fine line of dark hair that runs down the middle of Poe’s abdomen and eventually gets lost in his pubic hair.

“Finn,” Poe says, and he sounds so cautious and wary that Finn lifts his head to look at him properly after all. 

It is only then that he takes in the tense set of Poe’s shoulders, the way he doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with his left hand, the way his right shoulder gently slopes down and then simply – stops. 

Finn is too shocked to worry about the fact that he has been caught staring. 

“What the …” he starts, his eyes circling back to the metal joint that is attached to Poe’s shoulder in the place where Poe’s right arm should be, then sliding down only to land on the prosthetic arm he’s still holding in his lap. He drops it on the desk as if burnt, wincing at the clanging noise it causes when it hits the wood. BB-8 squeals in protest. 

Poe shrugs his left shoulder in a studiously casual way but his eyes are shuttered, his face closed-off. 

“It’s fine,” he says, a little roughly. “Not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Finn repeats before he can stop himself. “You lost your arm.”

Poe sighs, drags his remaining hand over his face in a gesture of resignation, though his stance is still stubborn, defensive.

“Avascular necrosis,” he finally says. “It was never going to get better. Eventually, I would have lost use of my arm entirely.” 

He smiles wryly. 

“They gave me a couple of options. This is the one I chose.”

“You chose to have them remove your arm,” Finn states tonelessly. “When did this even happen? I don’t – “ 

He pauses as his brain catches up with him.

“This is why you didn’t come with us,” he say slowly. “This is – you stayed here so you could let them amputate without having to tell us.”

Poe doesn’t respond, but the slight downward slump of his shoulders is more than answer enough.

“Why?” Finn asks desperately. “Why would you do this and not tell us?”

Poe looks at him from under lowered lashes. “I didn’t want you to postpone your trip,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to worry.” He pauses, sighs. 

“I didn’t want you to try and talk me out of it.”

Finn recoils as if slapped. “I thought we were friends.”

Poe’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips flatten. “So did I,” he retorts. 

He pulls the towel closer around himself in a protective gesture. 

“If you’d excuse me now?” he says, and the tone of his voice makes Finn feel as if the temperature in the room has suddenly dropped by several degrees. 

“I’d like to get dressed.”

Finn doesn’t actually have any clear recollection of exiting Poe’s quarters, but he must have left, because when his brain starts functioning properly again, he finds himself standing in the hallway, trying to will his racing heartbeat to slow down. 

Since he doesn’t know where else to go, he goes to dinner. 

“Wasn’t Poe supposed to meet us here?” Rose asks, balancing her full tray carefully to the nearest free table. 

Rey scans the rather busy cafeteria. “I don’t see him,” she says, setting her tray down next to Rose’s and falling into a chair.

Finn stares down at his food so he can avoid looking either of them in the eye. “I saw him earlier,” he mumbles. “He said something came up.”

“Huh,” is all Rey says before driving her fork into the fried fish, and for once, Finn is grateful for his friend’s single-track mind that is activated as soon as something edible is put in front of her. 

“This is so good,” Rose groans around a mouthful of stew. Finn doesn’t have much of an appetite, but he reluctantly tastes a spoonful and has to agree – the Resistance’s cafeteria food has vastly improved since the cooks have daily access to the settlement’s homegrown fresh ingredients. 

Rey smiles happily as she takes a bite out of her soft bread roll. “Six months ago, I never would have believed that I would ever say this, but I think I am actually going to miss the Resistance’s cafeteria food.”

Finn’s head flies up. “What do you mean you are going to miss it?” he asks, taken aback. “You are leaving?”

Rey frowns. “Not now,” she says slowly, as if her answer should be self-explanatory. “We just came back, and we are needed here. And then there are all the people who somehow believe that I have something smart to say about the organizational structure of the New Alliance. But eventually … isn’t everyone going to leave?”

“I don’t know,” Finn says. He feels lost. “Where … but where would you go?”

“No idea,” Rey shrugs. “I wasn’t done exploring the galaxy yet. And I don’t know what the galaxy will actually look like by the time I am ready to leave. I just think that I still have a lot to learn, you know? And I am not sure I can find everything I need to learn on Lothal.”

“Oh,” Finn makes. He uses his spoon to draw a pattern into the surface of his stew. 

“It’s a great thing though, isn’t it?” Rose asks. “All of us, we were trapped for so long – on Hays Minor, on Jakku, in the First Order. And then when we joined the Resistance, we went where the fight went. But now … we can finally go wherever we want. Stay wherever we like.” She pauses. “Make a home for ourselves wherever feels right.”

“I suppose so,” Finn says reluctantly. “I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Really?” Rey says curiously. “I thought you would want to …” She looks up and breaks off abruptly. 

“Snap!” Rose exclaims cheerfully. “How have you been?” 

“Welcome back, strangers,” Commander Temmin Wexley smiles, juggling his tray as he gives them a quick wave. “C’ai told me you got in earlier today.”

“Wanna sit?” Rose asks and slides over into the empty chair next to her to make space for him. 

“Thank you,” Snap says gratefully and heavily drops into the abandoned seat. He is clearly coming directly from training – still in his flight suit, damp hair sticking to his reddened forehead, the faint smell of sweat and engine oil surrounding him. “Always is so busy at this time, it can get difficult to find a spot.”

He dips his fork into his vegetables, then looks up and narrows his eyes. 

“Poe’s not with you?”

“Apparently something came up,” Rose shrugs and starts to stack up the empty dishes on her tray.

Rey mirrors Rose’s actions. “We are almost done,” she explains. “Rose and I want to go to the lake.” 

She gives Finn a sideways glance. “You wanna come?”

Finn shakes his head. “I am not done with my food yet,” he lies. “You go ahead, I will catch up with you.”

“Don’t be too long,” Rey says and gets to her feet. “It’ll be dark in about two hours.”

The two women wave their goodbyes, and Snap lifts a hand in return while shoveling food into his mouth with the other. 

Finn stares down at his barely-touched meal until a hand suddenly moves into his line of vision.

His gaze flies up. 

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I am just tired.”

Snap takes a good look at Finn’s face and sighs. 

“You talked to Poe,” he states, not really a question, and Finn wonders if he’s really that transparent or if Snap is just taking a stab in the dark. 

Apparently Finn is really that transparent, because Snap snorts and shrugs. “You are making your star-crossed lovers face,” he says, which explains precisely nothing as far as Finn is concerned. “Besides, I told Poe that keeping things from you was going to backfire on him.” He doesn’t look particularly pleased for someone who would get the chance to tell the Admiral _I told you so_. 

“So what happened?” he asks, and reaches for the bread roll that Finn hasn’t even touched. “He told you what he did?”

Finn suddenly feels very foolish. 

“I found his arm while he was in the ‘fresher,” he admits. “Thought it was for a droid he was trying to fix. Took him walking in naked, missing arm and all, for me to put the pieces together.” He sighs. “I shouted at him for a while. Then he kicked me out.”

“Ouch,” Snap winces, not entirely without sympathy, and Finn feels all his conflicted emotions rise to the surface again. 

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell me,” he says, and there is desperation eating at the edges of his voice. “What was he afraid of?” 

Snap lifts a brow. “You mean, aside from you shouting at him?”

Finn feels the heat rise in his cheeks. 

“I know, I know,” he says dejectedly, “but I mean earlier. I didn’t even know that this was on the table. I just thought he needed a little longer to heal.”

Wexley raises his shoulders. “It’s not exactly a secret that Poe doesn’t like appearing weak in front of people whose opinion he cares about.”

“You knew,” Finn says, and it comes out a little more accusatory than he’d meant it to. 

“Well,” Snap says. “It’s not like he wanted to tell us either. He just didn’t have a choice when it was clear he wouldn’t be able to fly anymore.” 

“And you couldn’t talk him out of it?” Finn asks, but he knows what the answer is before he even looks the other man in the eye. 

“You didn’t even try.”

Snap narrows his eyes. “Why does this matter so much to you?” he asks, and yeah, isn’t that the crux of the matter. 

“I …” Finn trails off, caught off guard. He pauses, trying to give Snap his dues by seriously thinking about the question. 

“In – in the First Order,” he finally says. “Most of us … if it looked like you were going to lose a limb, they wouldn’t even have bothered dragging you back to the ship.” He swallows. “If you were not functional, you got discarded.”

Snap nods. “I get it,” he says seriously. “But surely you must have realized that the Resistance is not like that when they marinated you in bacta for several weeks after you took a lightsaber to the spine.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Finn says. “But the decision Poe made … he was thinking about functionality, wasn’t he? It’s about him being able to do his job. Being able to fly. As if that’s all he’s good for. If the Resistance is so different from the First Order, why would he go to such lengths to remain functional?” 

He lifts his hands. “Especially now that the war is over. We don’t need to fight anymore.”

Snap shrugs. “He considered his options, and made the choice he thought was best. Can’t say that I blame him. It’s not just about the Resistance, you know. He also was worried that he wouldn’t be able to get around by himself with a bad arm. He was thinking about the future.”

“So what?” Finn asks harshly. “He’s got plenty of people who can help him.”

“Yeah?” the other man asks, and there is a hard undertone to his voice that Finn can’t remember ever hearing before. “Like whom?”

Finn stares incredulously. He opens his mouth, although what to say he doesn’t know.

Snap’s expression softens a little at what he must see in Finn’s eyes.

“Look,” he says seriously, “it’s not a secret that the General basically thinks of Poe as the son she was meant to have, but she just had a heart attack, and I know Poe would hate me for saying this, but who knows how long she’ll be around. Poe’s father is about the same age as her, and he’s had a rough life – it’s more likely that he’ll need help around the house himself soon enough.” 

He takes a deep breath. “And Finn, you know I would die for the Admiral on any given day, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change. But me and Karé, we are going to leave this place as soon as things have calmed down a bit. Settle down on Akiva, buy a house, think about kids, maybe. Same for the other pilots – most of us have home planets to go back to, families. And sure, none of us would turn him away if he asked us for a place to stay, but man, if you know Poe at all, you must know that he’d rather gnaw off his other arm before he ended up feeling like a permanent third wheel intruding on his friends’ romantic bliss.”

“But what about me?” Finn asks, agitated, because this is not right, it can’t be right that Wexley thinks the most popular officer in the Resistance feels like he has no one to rely on. 

“What about you?” Snap asks slowly, and Finn deflates, staring down at his knees.

“I could take care of him,” Finn says quietly, miserably. 

“I have no doubt,“ Snap says calmly, “but does he know that?” 

Finn’s gaze flies up. 

“How could he not know?” he asks in disbelief, and Snap raises his hands in a placating gesture. 

“He might assume that you have your own plans for your future.”

Finn frowns. “What kind of plans?”

“How should I know?” Snap asks. “You tell me. You grew up as a stormtrooper, it’s not exactly a stretch to imagine that you feel like you might have some stuff to catch up on. Weren’t you on a trip around the galaxy when the General fell ill?”

“A trip that Poe was supposed to be on!” Finn exclaims. “I never would have left if I’d known.”

Snap purses his lips. “Sounds to me like a good old-fashioned conversation might be in order.” 

“Well,” Finn says bitterly. “I suppose it’s too late now anyway.”

“Is it?” the pilot asks sharply. When Finn glances at him in surprise, Snap’s look tells him that he is missing something obvious. 

“Just saying,” the commander adds. “Might be worth actually telling him that.”

He finds Poe in a chair next to Leia’s cot in the med center, leaning forward, his forehead pressed against the hand that is resting on the sheets, still and limp. For a brief moment, Finn feels the ground dropping out from underneath him. Then he notices the gentle rise and fall of Leia’s chest, and he breathes out a sigh of relief.

He doesn’t think he made a noise, but Poe must have heard him anyway, because he straightens quickly and turns around to look at the intruder. There is not much doubt about the fact that he has been crying. 

Finn forgets to worry about whether Poe hates him right now. 

“Let’s go outside,” he says quietly, and Poe stands and follows him without protest. 

Once they leave the building, though, it is Poe who leads the way. He steers them eastwards, past the border of the settlement along a narrow path leading far into the grassy plains. They walk in silence for about half a mile until they come across one of the planet’s distinct rock formations. 

They settle down on one of the lower flat rocks, the high cone of the largest rock in the formation supporting their backs. The sun is setting already, casting the prairie around them in a soft orange light. Their elbows are touching whenever one of them shifts position. Finn pretends not to notice that Poe is wearing his gloves again. 

“The General is going to step down,” Poe says without much fanfare, his gaze getting lost in the sea of gently swaying grass. “She wants me to take over.”

“Oh,” Finn says. The news shouldn’t really come as a surprise, not at this point. Still, the thought of not having Leia guide the fate of the Resistance – the thought of there not being a Resistance anymore at all – is difficult to process. 

“Are you going to tell her yes?” Finn finally asks, and Poe shrugs. 

“I don’t think I have a choice,” he says. “There’s still work to be done. The Resistance has been my life for so many years. I can’t imagine abandoning it now, just because there’s no more fighting to be done. This is our chance to build something that lasts, so the galaxy won’t need another Resistance any time soon.”

Finn nods and takes a breath. “Then we are going to see it through.” 

Poe glances at him from the side. “We?” 

“Well, yes,” Finn says, trying to sound casual even as his heart is hammering in his chest. 

“I mean, you are going to be General, but you are not going to do it all alone.”

Poe shakes his head and looks away. “Finn,” he says quietly. “You are under no obligation to stick around. Lots of people are leaving. Going places. Settling down.”

“That’s because they are going home,” Finn says. “I don’t know if you noticed but I don’t really have a place to go back to.”

Poe lowers his eyes in something like shame, as if he feels personally responsible for Finn’s lack of a home planet, and Finn wants to take back his words because making Poe feel guilty is the last thing he was trying to do. 

“You can go wherever you want to, though,” Poe argues. “You were the one who told me that you wanted to travel. See the galaxy. You were so excited about traveling with Rey and Rose … I mean, you only came back because of Leia.”

“No,” Finn says urgently. “No, Poe. I was always going to come back. I just wanted to get away for a bit but I wasn’t … I wouldn’t even have gone if I had known that you needed us here.” 

“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Poe responds. 

“I get that,” Finn nods. “But truth be told,” he continues and tries not to let his voice shake too much, “I always figured that my home was going to be wherever you were going to go.”

Poe’s eyes widen; his face does something complicated, hovering between what looks like longing and bitterness. 

“But not anymore,” Poe states as much as he asks. With his left hand, he pushes back the shirt sleeve on his right arm, exposing metal and blinking wires, and gives Finn a poignant look. 

Finn lets his outstretched hand come down on the prosthetic forearm. It’s just metal, smooth and slightly warm to the touch. It is there to help Poe do his job, it’s the reason he can fly. It is a part of him, like the small tattoo Finn knows he’s got on his hip, like the stubble he predictably grows throughout the day when he hasn’t had time to shave in the morning. With dark eyes, Poe follows the movement as Finn’s fingers trace the artificial tendons upwards until his hand reaches Poe’s shoulder and comes to rest against the curve of his neck. The skin under Finn's palm is very soft, a stray curl is brushing against his fingers in a whisper, and Poe’s pulse jumps rapidly, hard and fast and very much alive.

“Yes,” Finn says firmly. “Still. Always. If you want me to. I am sorry it took me so long to come around. I got some stuff mixed up in my head, but I figured it out.”

“Yeah?” Poe says, still a little doubtful, and so Finn does the only thing he can think of to convince him how much he means it: he leans in and kisses him. 

Later, much later, when they are curled up closely on the narrow bed in Poe’s quarters, Finn slots himself against Poe’s back and massages his right shoulder where the muscles around the artificial joint have cramped up from the strain as they both watch BB-8 diligently run diagnostics on the prosthesis to make sure it is functioning as it should.

“There are much better models,” Poe says into the room, leaning into Finn’s hands as they expand the radius of their movements to Poe’s shoulder blade and down his spine. 

“You know. More … lifelike. They make them in places like Coruscant. But we don’t really have access to those kinds of resources right now, and even if we did …” He shrugs. “I don’t think the Resistance in its entirety would have enough credits to pay for it. So we had to make do with what’s there.” 

Finn kisses the nape of Poe’s neck gently but doesn’t respond otherwise, just in case Poe has more to say. 

“This one is actually part of a decommissioned med droid, did you know that?” Poe chuckles, a little tiredly but genuinely amused. “With some upgrades. BB-8 and C-3PO collaborated on the electronics to make the range of motion more effective for piloting.” 

BB-8 gives a whistle that almost sounds bashful, and Finn doesn’t need to see Poe’s face to know that he’s smiling fondly at his droid. 

“So it’s more like a transplant, if you think about it,” Finn says thoughtfully, and Poe turns his head to look at him sideways, a little surprised. 

“Yes,” he says, sounding hesitantly pleased. “I guess you could say that.”

Finn smiles. “I bet the all the droids are just loving the fact that you are really one of them now,” he says lightly, cradling Poe’s head gently with one hand just in case he will take Finn’s words the wrong way. 

“You were always kind of an honorary member anyway.” 

Poe actually laughs at that. “You know that BB-8 can transmit data directly to my brain now?” he says, and Finn’s eyebrows climb all the way up his forehead. 

“For real?” he asks breathlessly, and Poe grins and shakes his head. 

“No,” he laughs. “But how amazing would that be?”

BB-8 beeps and rolls up to the bunk, butting gently against Poe’s shin. 

“Yes, we understand each other just fine,” Poe agrees and runs his fingers over BB-8’s dome. 

Then he shifts around on the bed to be able to kiss Finn properly, and Finn is pretty certain that Poe was not just talking about his droid.


End file.
